
19 Mar Radicalized by Love
Dear Westwood Community,
In many activist circles, people refer to “radicalizing moments.” It’s essentially a “come-to-Jesus” moment in the context of social justice, often a moment of witnessing something that is so deeply wrong and unjust that you realize you have to be a part of the work to change the powers behind it. The problem is, in a time of so much injustice, genocide, pain, and oppression, we can only be radicalized so many times before we burn out.
You know when you leave your phone in the sun for too long, and then it overheats and has to stop charging or doing anything at all until it cools off? That’s how I feel when I get too consumed by all of it. I stop being useful or present to myself or anyone, I just shut down.
The thing is, radicalizing moments do not have to be only those moments fueled by fear and anger. I believe we can also be sparked by moments of profound love, justice, and community. When I look back through my life at the moments where I felt the most outraged, scorned, and disgusted by injustice in the world, I also see the communities of people who stood behind and with me, both physically and spiritually.
It is a choice to be tender and open, in this time where it is so much easier to numb yourself or ignore the suffering happening all around. The love, hope, and desire I have for justice feels less like a fire and more like a garden. It is something that requires tending, weeding, and constant attention through all of the harshest seasons.
I recently came across a graphic made by writer and activist Kai Cheng Thom, called the “Embodied Conflict Response Model.” It takes from the psychological “window of tolerance,” a model for interpersonal conflict and communication, and applies the same thing to justice work. The idea is to pay attention to our bodies and nervous systems in order to reach for a place of growth instead of overwhelm.
As the crises around us continue to escalate, how can we find, as Thom calls it, “a healing based model of change?” How do we tend to our open hearts even as terrors persist?
Soon after the LA fires, there was a small benefit concert I attended that also happened to be shortly after the inauguration. Every artist played a two-song acoustic set. One of the groups was Muna, a queer pop group, who played “I Know a Place,” a song about finding sanctuary together when the world is feeling scary (if you decide to look it up, I recommend the acoustic version). As I stood and sung along in that room of reeling people, people who loved their city and had just watched it burn, people who loved their communities and felt afraid about where to go next and what to do, I was reminded with such power that I was not alone in the struggle, never was, and never will be.
You cannot change everything that is wrong with the world. But you can choose to keep caring, hoping, and taking small steps towards justice. You can keep listening to and showing up for people who are hurting and oppressed. You can donate to mutual aid organizations in Gaza, reach out to friends impacted by climate disaster and new legislation, care for your neighbors, and keep caring, even when it starts getting old. Kai Cheng Thom asks “What do you need in order to become available to a process of healing, sustainable transformation?” It is a fine line, staying open without getting flooded, continuing to care without shutting down. But it is one we must continue to search for, and are called to navigate together.
Keep the faith, my friends. Yours in solidarity,
Everest